


gonna look right back at you

by NerdsbianHokie, onefootonego (startingXI)



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Horror, Let's do this thing, Mystery, Shared fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-07-19 00:21:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16129694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsbianHokie/pseuds/NerdsbianHokie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego
Summary: Alex eyed the brick detailing and columns around the front entrance as they made their way up the stairs.Preserving the detailing would be vital. The door itself looked solid wood, some damage in one corner, but preservable. The glass, however, fogged, cracked, wire reinforced, that was going to have to go.A shadow shifted behind the glass.Alex squinted. She reached towards the handle, only to jerk her hand back as the door opened from the inside.The reason for her speeding heart changed in the moment she took in the woman on the other side.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yoo, hello one and all - onefootonego here (aka 4beit on tumblr) and i’m just popping in the authors note to explain what on earth is happening with this fic. 
> 
> for those of you who dabble in the tumblr-sphere, a post started doing the rounds a couple of weeks ago proposing the idea of _fic wars_. both nerdsbianhokie and i were smitten with the concept and thus, this fic was born. 
> 
> the rules of fic wars are simple: 
> 
> > nerdsbianhokie has the genre of horror and i will be writing within the mystery genre. 
> 
> > there will be ten chapters - nerdbianhokie with the odd numbered chapters and myself with the even. 
> 
> > the first time the other will see the chapter is when it is posted live on AO3 
> 
> > due to the both of us leading busy lives, updates will be unscheduled but we will both be working hard to make them as prompt as we can be. 
> 
> and as a heads up, the rating and warnings on the chapter may change as the story goes on. given the dynamic nature of this piece it is nearly impossible to predict where the story will go, so keep an eye and we will warn as needed.
> 
> this is a writing exercise for the both of us and hope that y’all enjoy it as much as we will.
> 
> as ever, feel free to let us know your comments and thoughts in the reviews below, and/or drop us a kudo!

Alex’s nose screwed up as the heat infiltrated the cab of her truck the moment she opened the door. Dry dirt puffed up around her boots as they hit the ground. She leaned against the open car door, squinted against the sun to take in the building.

The Pratt State Hospital was a typical Kirkbride with long, staggered wings branched out the sides of the center portion that used to be the administration area of the hospital. 

Richardsonian Romanesque. Dutch gable roof. A mix of grey stone and brick. Three towers rose over the central portion, two smaller ones on each side of the third.

Alex stared at the left tower. Soft buzzing sounded in her ears. The edges of her vision blurred. A tickle, up her back. A pin prick, in her neck. A...

Loud honking accompanied by an engine roar pulled her focus from the building.

Alex rolled her eyes as the McLaren slid to a stop, sending dirt flying. She leaned into her truck, grabbed the leather bound portfolio from the passenger’s seat.

The engine behind her shut off.

She eyed the cell phone and PDA sitting in the cupholders. She grabbed them after a moment’s consideration, slipping the cell phone into her pocket and the PDA into the holder clipped to her belt next to her beeper. She wasn’t in the habit of taking her cell phone everywhere she went, found it a nuisance more often than not, but Max was an even bigger nuisance, so any distraction from him would be welcome.

She shut the truck door, tucked the portfolio under her arm, and started towards the building.

“We’ll have to get a landscaper in, after the building renovation, of course,” Max said, falling into step next to her.

Alex rolled her eyes again. “Don’t want dust on your fancy sports car?”

“Don’t want dust on the fancy sport cars of my future guests,” Max replied.

“Ah, of course.”

She looked down the wings of the building, eyeing the damage from an earthquake seventy or so years back.

“I can already tell you, Max, this is going to be a massive undertaking,” she said. “That wing alone is going to be a costly repair.”

“So, right into business, is it, Alex? Is that our relationship now?”

She shook her head. They no longer had any relationship outside of business, but reminding him of that would lead to the same old conversation. “It would be more cost effective to just tear it down.”

“No. I want this place as close to the original design as possible.”

“So, will we be leaving in the medical apparatus? Maybe have guests sleep in hospital beds? Instal restraints on the chairs?”

“That is actually not a bad idea,” Max said. “Not all of the rooms, of course, but maybe one section?”

Alex sighed.

“And maybe just for Halloween,” he continued. “For an extra fee. People pay a lot to get scared.”

Alex eyed the brick detailing and columns around the front entrance as they made their way up the stairs.

Preserving the detailing would be vital. The door itself looked solid wood, some damage in one corner, but preservable. The glass, however, fogged, cracked, wire reinforced, that was going to have to go.

A shadow shifted behind the glass.

Alex squinted. She reached towards the handle, only to jerk her hand back as the door opened from the inside.

The reason for her speeding heart changed in the moment she took in the woman on the other side.

Dark brown hair. Sparkling eyes. Dimples just barely visible.

“You must be the new owners,” the woman said.

“Ah,” Max said. “I’m the owner, she’s the woman who is going to bring this place to its former glory.”

Alex rolled her eyes. The woman raised an eyebrow as she glanced at Alex. The base of Alex's neck heated up at the attention.

“Maggie Sawyer,” the woman said. “Head security, we spoke on the phone.”

“Yes. You keep all the local kids out.”

“Among other things.” Maggie glanced between them again. “You're here for the initial appraisal?”

Alex nodded. “I need to see what I'm working with.”

“Well, come on in.”

Maggie turned, led them inside.

Their footsteps echoed off the wood floor of the entrance hall. Arching doorways, two on one side, one of the other, guided the eyes to the grand, bifurcated staircase at the end of the hall.

“Welcome to Nelson Pratt State Hospital,” Maggie said. Her voice bounced around the empty space. “Founded 1866.”

Great, a 132 year old building with earthquake damage.

Why did she let Max drag her into this job?

Well, for the money he was paying her, if she was honest, but did her business need him that much?

She let herself fall a step behind the others as Maggie led them towards the stairs.

“Down either way,” Maggie said, gesturing to one of the doorways. “You’ve got what used to be offices, and the entrances to the wings. When this was still a running asylum, the women were housed in the east wing, men in the west.”

Alex narrowed her focus to taking in the building, letting Maggie’s continued spiel fade away.

Solid hardwood floors.

A hanging wire that must have once held a light fixture swung from the ceiling.

The small room branching from the first door in the entrance hall could be easily transformed into the check-in if she could convince Max to take part of the wall down.

She glanced down one hall as they passed the doorways. A chill ran up her spine as she eyed the large door at the end, a plank of wood nailed under the handle.

Which moved, a subtle shift in light reflecting off the metal.

Alex’s feet froze to the floor. Cold crept up her legs.

A soft thud floated down the hall.

Another.

Another.

“Damnit.”

Alex blinked, stepped back as Maggie stepped between her and the door.

“Lane! Olsen!” Maggie called. “Get the hell out of there!”

The thuds stopped.

Maggie sighed. “Sorry. A couple of locals searching for video of the hauntings.”

“Hauntings?” Alex asked.

“Just local stories,” Maggie said. “Kids love to break in and scare each other, which only spreads the rumors.”

“Shouldn’t you go after them?” Max asked.

Maggie laughed. “That door is completely shut off. By the time I get to the other side, they’ll be long gone.”

“Will they be an issue going forward?”

“Nah, not those two.”

“But others will be?”

“Maybe, but that’s why I’m here. And, once the construction gets going, I’ll be bringing in more people to keep them out of the site.”

Alex let the conversation fade out again as Max pushed on the business aspect. She narrowed her eyes, stared at the door until the other two started up the stairs again. She pushed it out of her mind, turned her focus to the building details again.

* * *

The pads of Max’s fingers were free of dust as he pulled them away from the desk. He let out a puff of breath.

Unimpressive as the hotel may be, at least it was clean.

Still, the less high profile hotels in the area, the less competition.

Some of his advisors kept saying that it also meant less demand in the first place.

Which, was true.

But, between his name and business sense, the concept of a converted asylum, and the work he knew Alex could do, why listen to facts?

He glanced at the wall shared between his and Alex’s rooms.

Might as well continue to do good and keep her from spending the entire trip working.

A glance in the mirror, a soft brush at his hair, then out the door.

Alex answered his knock with a scowl.

“What?”

“Is that really how you greet your employer?”

She rolled her eyes as she retreated back into the room, leaving the door open for him.

He smirked at the blueprints and sketches spread out, not just across the table and desk, but the bed as well.

“You know what they say about all work and no play,” he said, tugging the corner of a blueprint on the bed to pull it closer to him.

“My name isn’t Jack, Max,” Alex replied, already focusing on the work again. “And this isn’t exactly a small project. This building is massive and the work required, hell, the inspections needed before we even start any work…”

“Valid points, but, I heard about this bar in town.” He meandered across the room, shuffling some of the papers on the desk and finding a folder labeled  _ Building History. _

“I’m not going to get a drink with you and you know it.”

“Not what I was looking for.” He flipped the folder open. The photo on top was grainy, the building right after initial construction. “Besides, not sure how welcome I’d be at this place, I’m not exactly the target clientele.”

“What are you talking about?”

He turned, grinning brightly at her exasperated expression.

“Maggie might be there. I got that vibe from her, and noticed your reaction when we first met her.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Oh, come on Alex, since your whole Ellen Moment that ended our relationship…”

“Ellen Moment?”

“Ellen DeGeneres? Came out as a lesbian last year? All over the press because of it.”

“I know who Ellen is.”

“Of course you do. But, as I was saying, ever since you being gay split us up, you’ve been focused on nothing but work.”

“Because I need to make sure my company doesn’t fail.”

He waved her comment away. “I think there’s more to it than that.”

“Oh my God.” She shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not doing this. Not here, not now, definitely not with you.”

She stood, grabbed her purse, jacket, and a few files.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Away from you,” she said, opening the door.

“It’s called Jolene’s” he called just before the door closed.

He smirked at the door, then turned back to the folder.

* * *

The room behind Maggie warped in the mirror behind the bar. She eyed the scant amount of patrons. Sophie at the jukebox. Rose and Taylor in the far booth. Darla spending her break by flirting with Nicole over a game a pool.

Jolene’s used to get more business, until a new club opened a city over, drawing the people who wanted a more lively atmosphere.

Two clinks on the bar let her know that M’gann wasn’t just walking past her, but bringing her requested beer.

“How’d the meeting go?” M’gann asked.

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Couple of rich city folk looking for a new way to make money.”

“Aren’t they always?”

Maggie laughed, took a sip from one of the bottles.

A hand settled on the small of her back, scratching lightly against her shirt. Another hand reached around to take a bottle.

“Aren’t who always what?” Lucy asked.

Maggie leaned back into her. “The new owner of the hospital and his architect girlfriend.”

Lucy hummed, used the lower rung to lift herself into the barstool next to Maggie’s.

“That’s the who, what’s the what?” she asked.

“Just looking for ways to make more money.” Maggie leaned towards Lucy, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey.” Lucy moved her hand to Maggie’s thigh, curling around her knee. “How did it go, overall, though?”

Maggie shrugged. “Well enough, I guess. Architect seemed to know what she was doing, at least, while he was off talking about stuff even I know would be too much.”

“Think they’d at least hire you to stay on as hotel security after it’s all done?”

“Maybe.” She sighed. “Hotel security, that’s where I always saw myself.”

Lucy scratched her lightly through her jeans. “I know, babe.”

Maggie tapped the top of the bar.

The hospital wasn’t the worst place to work, and she would never have met Lucy if she hadn’t left Metropolis, but keeping kids from scaring the shit out of each other didn’t hold up to actually helping people as a cop.

“James is working a few more contacts,” Lucy said. “Maybe we’ll actually be able to leave this place before the construction is done.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Lucy reached over, hooked a finger under Maggie’s chin to turn her head. Wide green eyes and long brown hair pulled into a loose bun. “We’ll figure something out, babe. I promise.”

Maggie reached up, grabbed the hand Lucy still had on her chin, lifted it to kiss the knuckles. “I know.”

Lucy smiled, large and bright.

“But,” Maggie continued. “If we don’t get out of here, you’re really going to have to stop dragging James into the building. I can’t believe you were there today.”

Confusion crossed Lucy’s face. The main door opening pulled her attention across the room for a moment, and the confusion turned to interest.

“She’s new.”

Maggie looked over her shoulder. “Huh.”

Alex Danvers was making her way to a booth against the wall.

“Huh?”

“That’s the architect.”

“Think she wandered in on accident?”

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “No, I don’t, actually.” She turned back to M’gann. “Can we get another bottle.”

A moment later, two bottles in hand, Lucy at her side, she was crossing the bar.

Alex already had some papers spread across the table, was chewing at the end of her pen. As she stepped closer, Maggie could make out some layouts from the hospital.

“You know,” Maggie said, making Alex jump. “Most people don’t come to bars to get work done.”

Alex stared at her with wide eyes, their darkness absorbing the lights of the bar.

“Maggie!”

“Can we?” she gestured to the other side of the booth.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Alex pulled the papers back in, tucking them into a folder. She took the beer Maggie passed over, setting it down without taking a drink.

“Lucy, this is Alex,” Maggie said as she slid into the seat. “Alex, this is Lucy.”

“You’re the architect working on the hospital, right?” Lucy asked.

Alex nodded.

“Maggie tell you that it’s haunted?”

Maggie sighed. “Really, Luce?”

Lucy laughed.

“What stories do people tell about the place?” Alex asked.

Maggie slumped back in her seat as Lucy leaned forward.

“It used to be an asylum, right? That’s what it was built for,” Lucy started.

“Yeah,” Alex agreed.

“Well, we’re talking old school asylums. Like, back when they were really really bad, and this place was probably one of the worst of the lot.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm. Most stories you’ll hear are about patients who died there. Suicides, murders, medical neglect. Some are about malevolent doctors still sticking around, waiting for new test subjects.”

“You have a favorite?”

“Okay,” Maggie cut in. “I am nowhere near drunk enough for that.”

“Sorry,” Lucy squeezed Maggie’s leg under the table. “Another time, Alex, I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, NerdsbianHokie here. I hope y'all liked the first chapter. I've been really excited about this project since onefootonego and I started talking about it, and I'm pumped to finally be sharing it and kicking it off.
> 
> A few quick reminders, again, updates are most likely going to be sporadic due to them going through not just one, but two real life filters. And, the rating and warning may change as the fic proceeds, as we have no way of really planning ahead. However, do note that I am writing horror set in an asylum, so take that as you will.
> 
> The title of the fic is from American Horror Story: Asylum, “If you look in the face of evil, evil's gonna look right back at you.”  
> As always, comments and thoughts are more than welcome. Thanks :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “in the hospital.” maggie says “i heard you and james.” 
> 
> lucy’s fingers still in maggie’s hair “you couldn’t have.” she says “i was at a meeting all afternoon. plus, i knew how important this afternoon was, i wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardise that.” she punctuates the sentence by resuming her massage, shifting so she’s kneeling behind maggie, working her hands at maggie’s neck and shoulders.

maggie finds herself sitting on the edge of the bed, listening to the sounds of lucy getting ready to turn in for the night. from the en-suite bathroom, maggie can hear the tap running and the splash of water into the sink as lucy washes her face. lucy is humming to herself absently, a tune maggie can’t pick out from this distance. maggie knows she should be getting ready for bed as well, knows she has an early morning ahead of her, but she’s stuck on something. her mind is filtering through the night, past the conversations with alex that border on flirtation and back to when it was just maggie and lucy at the bar. in her mind maggie can picture the look of confusion that flickered across lucy’s face, her eyebrows knitting together, no flash of recognition in her eyes and certainly no wry smile at maggie calling her out. 

“hey,” lucy says, her words garbled from the toothbrush in her mouth “you okay?” she’s leaning against the doorframe with a mouthful of toothpaste, watching maggie with interest. 

maggie realises she’s still fully clothed, sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands on her thighs, fingers splayed. her hair is still pulled back in its ponytail and there’s a tension sitting across her shoulders that she didn’t recognise until she sat up fully “uh, yeah.” maggie says “fine.” 

lucy narrows her eyes and holds up one finger, a gesture indicating that maggie wasn’t going to be getting out of this conversation any time soon. so maggie repositions herself, leaning back onto her hands and feeling the stretch through her forearms and into her elbows. she can hear lucy gargling some mouthwash before spitting it into the sink, rinsing it with a quick run of the tap and then emerge from the bathroom. she’s studying maggie “you’re stuck on something.” lucy says “what are you thinking about? is it alex?” she asks, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed next to maggie. 

maggie snorts “no.” she says, bringing one of her hands to tangle with lucy’s “it’s not alex.” 

“shame.” lucy shrugs, squeezing maggie’s hand “she’s cute.” 

“i think there’s a rom-com that follows this exact plot.” maggie points out. 

lucy glances between them with a smile “i’m not sure it’s this plot exactly.” she laughs, reaching with her free hand and gesturing for maggie to turn her head. 

maggie does, and she feels lucy work deftly to free her ponytail. there’s a moment where the hair is caught on itself and maggie winces until lucy tugs the knot free “so,” lucy says as she cards her fingers through maggie’s hair, settling it down maggies back before moving her hand upwards and scratching lightly at maggie’s scalp “if it’s not alex, what is it?” 

for a moment maggie is lost on the sensation of maggie’s fingers working through her hair, on her head. they feel amazing, all the stress and tension of the day seeping away. 

“earth to sawyer,” lucy says with a pinch to the shell of maggie’s ear, making her jump “i did think my fingers were this good.” 

maggie doesn’t have to turn around to see lucy’s smirk “yeah, yeah.” she shrugs “you know how good your fingers are. i was just thinking about this afternoon.” she says. 

“oh?” 

“in the hospital.” maggie says “i heard you and james.” 

lucy’s fingers still in maggie’s hair “you couldn’t have.” she says “i was at a meeting all afternoon. plus, i knew how important this afternoon was, i wouldn’t do anything that would jeopardise that.” she punctuates the sentence by resuming her massage, shifting so she’s kneeling behind maggie, working her hands at maggie’s neck and shoulders. 

the bed dips and maggie reaches out to steady herself as lucy moves “you positive?” she asks, studying the dresser as if that will give her any more answers. 

“positive.” lucy confirms “why?” she asks “what did you hear?” there’s immediate intrigue, curiosity and excitement in her voice as she asks. 

maggie shakes her head “it must have been the wind.” she says “that place is falling apart anyway.” 

“oh come on.” lucy chides, “half the buildings in this town are old, but they don’t make a third of the noises that hospital does.” 

“it was just a thudding.” maggie says. 

“a thudding?” lucy repeats “how fast? where did you hear it?” 

maggie shakes her head but casts her mind back to the memory anyway “we were just walking down the entrance hallway and it was down the entry corridor to the women’s wing. i think alex heard it first.” maggie takes a breath, “i thought it was just you and james messing around. using some old two by four and thumping it on the ground. there were only three or four beats and then i shouted for you to get lost. so it stopped.” maggie shivers “i hate talking about this stuff. i have to go back to that place tomorrow and guard it all night.” 

“i can always come to keep you company.” lucy suggests with a smile “maybe we can do some poking around together.” 

there’s a gentle tug at the hem of maggie’s shirt and she nods, lifting her arms so lucy can take it off and throw it across the room in a messy arch to land half in and half out of the basket. maggie’s fingers come to the button of her jeans and she undoes it, tugging the zipper down as lucy undoes her bra. 

“that could get me fired.” maggie says “and this is the only job i have.” 

“no one would know.” lucy says, leaning back as maggie stands. 

there’s an ache in maggie’s knees as she stands, shimmying out of her jeans and letting them pool around her feet as she hooks a thumb through the waistband of her boxers and tugs them down in one motion “remind me again why you’re so intent on going digging through that place?” maggie says “besides giving me a headache.” 

lucy moves across the bed, settling onto her side and slipping under the duvet “because,” she says “hundreds of men and women went missing from this asylum and they deserve justice.” 

maggie grabs her pyjamas and slips into the shirt, looking at lucy after she does so “and what do you think happened to them?” 

“i think they were killed.” lucy say “you know how horrific these asylums were. the people inside barely had any rights. doctors would come and go as they pleased doing whatever they wanted in the name of ‘curing’ these people. but it was unethical, dirty science and i think they killed far more patients than they could explain away.” 

maggie, dressed for bed, considers “okay,” she nods “i can buy that. asylums were horrific places to be, the outside world didn’t care what happened to those inside. they patients were vulnerable, easy prey. but if you want to make those accusations, you need proof.” 

“you sound like lois.” lucy grumbles as maggie climbs into bed. 

“good.” maggie says “lois is right.” 

“of course she is.” lucy says “but anyway, that’s why i keep dragging james to come poke around in there.” 

“why?” maggie asks, confused. 

“proof.” lucy says “there has to be proof in that building somewhere of what was going on.” 

“there are hundreds of rooms though lucy with equipment of all sorts, all broken, all out of date and dangerous.” maggie explains, looking over at lucy. 

there’s a spark in lucy’s eyes, the potential horrors and injustice of what happened the men and women of the asylum has a firm hold on her. on the one hand, maggie loves seeing lucy so passionate about something. she loves seeing lucy riled up and ready for a fight. on the other, the hospital is far more dangerous than lucy knows. structurally compromised by years of winter storms and summer storms, not to mention the fire that lead to the buildings closing anyway. the last thing maggie wants is for anything bad to happen to lucy. 

“i don’t care about the equipment.” lucy says “that’s not proof.” 

“okay…” maggie trails off “what are you after?” 

“records.” lucy says, her eyes alight.

“patient records, if they kept any at all, would have been removed with the closure of the building, right?” maggie asks, unsure of exactly what records lucy is after. 

“the official patient records, sure.” lucy agrees “but i’m after the unofficial patient records. records of experiments done on innocent, non-consenting people.” 

“how can you be sure they exist?” maggie presses “what’s to say they haven’t been removed by now.”

“that’s what james kept saying to me.” lucy says “but i know they’re still hidden.” 

“how do you know?” 

“i spoke to a nurse who used to work there.” 

“you did what?” maggie looks sharply across the bed “how, what, lucy?” 

“that was where i was all afternoon.” lucy explains “i was talking to betty ragnar. she was eighteen when she got a job in the asylum as an assistant for a doctor letchworth.” lucy’s eyes darken “maggie, he was a monster. but, lucky for me, he was also a stickler for keeping detailed notes. notes that he wouldn’t let betty near. she told me he would never take them out of the hospital. the last thing doctor letchworth did before he left for the night was hide his records somewhere. apparently, he never told anyone where they would go. and,” lucy says “and he died that night in the fire that closed the hospital.” 

“so his records could still be in the hospital.” maggie says “his detailed records explaining everything he ever did to every patient.” 

“that’s what i hope.” lucy says “there’s a strong chance they were burned in the fire or ruined over the years or stolen by punk kids who didn’t know any better. but,” she pauses “but if they’re there if i can get them back to lois, she says she’ll write a piece about the whole system. talking about how vulnerable people were exploited, throw shame on the past.” lucy looks over at maggie “those people deserve to be recognised for their sacrifices, mags.” 

“they do.” maggie agrees “but you need to be safe. that building is falling apart in places and i don’t want you, or james, getting hurt hunting for some dead assholes medical notes.” 

“that sounds like you want company tomorrow night.” lucy says with a grin. 

“how about,” maggie says “we start off in the daylight first. i have another meeting with alex to look over the property in some further detail. you could come and give her the history of the place. i have a feeling you know so much more about it than i do.” 

“i accept your offer.” lucy says, then adds “you know maggie, you can admit that you’re too scared to go into the building at night.” 

maggie shivers and shakes her head “i hate going in that place during the day babe,” she says “let alone at night. the place is creepy.” 

“yes,” lucy agrees with a smile “yes it is.” 

* 

alex gets back from the hotel gym to see a missed text message from maggie on her phone, 

maggie to alex [06:10:03 am] – we still on for 9am? lucy will be meeting up with us as well, she knows the history of the building pretty well. and apparently, she owes you some scary stories. 

the thought of both maggie and lucy being there, showing her around the old hospital was intriguing. not to mention the promise of some scary stories that max would no doubt try and work into the hotels lore. slipping into the bathroom, alex shoots a message back to maggie 

alex to maggie [07:19:41 am] – definitely still on. where would you recommend for breakfast in this town? 

alex takes her time in the shower, in no hurry to see max off for the day. by the time she emerges from the bathroom, fully dressed and with damp tousled hair, there is a reply from maggie waiting for her on the phone 

maggie to alex [07:30:59 am] – lucy and i could meet you at flints, on the main street just past the traffic light. it has the best breakfast. 

alex to maggie [07:34:23 am] – done. say, eight? 

maggie to alex [07:36:01 am] – see you there. 

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's fourbeit here! i fully intended to update this much sooner, but then life got in the way. i am so pleased to finally put this chapter out. hope y'all enjoy it :D 
> 
> also, i was 2k into this chapter when i realised i hadn't capitalised any of it. from my next chapter forward, i will capitalise properly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His master key slips into the lock and turns with ease, but the door barely inches open. Rolling his eyes, he gets his fingers in the crack, pulls with all of his strength.
> 
> The screech of the hinges fills the night air, cuts over the crickets and rustling brush. It grows louder and louder and louder until - finally - there is enough of a gap for him to squeeze through.
> 
> Into a darkness different than the one he just left. Thicker, oozing into the weak light from his flashlight.

The building is bigger in the dark, blotting out the stars as it looms over Max. He angles his flashlight upwards, the dim beam barely reaching the tower.

Outdoor lighting will be crucial, but an issue for a later stage of construction.

Still, something from the era of the original construction. Wrought iron. Flame simulation, perhaps.

He lowers the flashlight back to the blueprint spread out on his car hood, scanning quickly to find an alternate entrance.

To properly explore the east wing before Alex shows up with the guard, he needs to get moving.

There, a side entrance -- as long as it isn’t blocked off. A few on the back of the building if it is.

He folds up the blueprint, makes sure he has his cell phone and keys, and sets off, resigning himself for a long walk due to the sheer length of the building.

Broken windows.

Dried shrubs.

Missing bricks.

Dust and dust and dust.

He truly believes that Alex will restore the building to its former glory, but -- despite his attitude around Alex -- it is not the easiest vision to see just yet.

And that’s all before he reaches the collapsed section.

Bowed in roof.

Crumpled wall.

Past the fourth segment from the tower, the third floor and above are completely destroyed.

Alex had said something about potential damage in the foundation.

She was right about the cost of fixing the building, but it will all be worth it once the hotel is open and paying for itself.

Max turns around the end of the wing, finds the side entrance barred by thick planks nailed across the frame.

A back entrance, then.

Land stretches out behind the hospital. Barren. Dusty. In the distance, hills just barely break up the horizon.

In the pictures from when the hospital had been open, there had been a garden. They could recreate that.

And, if he gets his hands on the land beyond the property, a golf course.

He sweeps the flashlight back to the building, narrows in on a glinting not far ahead.

The glint quickly turns into a ‘No Trespassing’ sign hanging on a door.

Basic. White wash chipping off. It is a drastically different door than the main entrance.

His master key slips into the lock and turns with ease, but the door barely inches open. Rolling his eyes, he gets his fingers in the crack, pulls with all of his strength.

The screech of the hinges fills the night air, cuts over the crickets and rustling brush. It grows louder and louder and louder until - finally - there is enough of a gap for him to squeeze through.

Into a darkness different than the one he just left. Thicker, oozing into the weak light from his flashlight.

The linoleum floor has cracked and peels away from the foundation in places. Doors are missing, black stains around the frames. Others hang off the hinges. And others still - as he tries a handle - are locked.

He flashes the light through an open door as he passes, getting a glimpse of a hospital bed and a window before moving on.

The rooms on this level are small, single patient rooms. Too small for a hotel room - especially luxury ones. Walls are going to have to come down, rooms combined. It will greatly reduce the amount of rooms available, but safety codes and guest expectations must be met.

A different door slips into his light. Windowless. Unmarked.

He trails a finger up the wood for a moment before turning the handle. It is just as heavy as the other had been. With a grunt, and his shoulder pushing his full weight forward, he forces it open, holds it open to peer into the dark.

Stairs.

Sawyer had shown them the main elevator in the center of the building.

Large, wrought iron.

He will need to hire somebody to work it for guests. For show, mostly. The actual elevator mechanics will need to be modernized, but the exterior should be preserved along with the aesthetic of a bellhop inside.

Other elevators, however, will need to be discussed with Alex during the renovation. With a building as large and long as the hospital, elevators at the end of each wing will be vital for guest traffic and comfort.

He steps back into the hallway, letting the door close, continues on.

His light flashes over cracks in the wall, doors half burned away, chalk on the wall.

He freezes.

Chalk.

And recently added.

He brushes a finger over a line, pulls it away covered in powder.

Definitely recent.

He steps back, raises the light to take in what was written...drawn…

He squints, tilts his head.

Numbers, maybe.

Arrows, in places.

Nothing he recognizes, for sure.

Possibly from those ghost hunters Sawyer had mentioned, making notes during their trespassing.

A soft creak sounds, crawling down the hall from the way he came, slithering up his legs, freezing him in place.

Door hinges.

It grows

and grows

and grows.

He takes a deep breath, shines his light back down the hall.

“Hey! Who’s there?”

The creaking builds, builds, builds into a crescendo.

He takes a step.

The silence around him is almost as deafening as the creaking had been.

But it pushes some of his fear away. Many of the doors are loose, they must still settle at times.

Still…

“If anyone is there, you are trespassing on private property. If you leave now, I will not pursue any legal repercussions.”

Nothing.

He starts down the hall, towards the noise.

His light slips through the open door to the stairwell.

Great.

A click.

Of a door closing, latch catching.

From below.

Max pulls his cellphone from the holder, uses his flashlight to look at the screen.

He has service, but if they are kids like Sawyer said, he can probably scare them into never coming back. He can call the cops if it becomes necessary.

Putting his phone back into the holder, he starts down the stairs, the beam from the flashlight getting smaller and smaller as he goes.

**

“I'm just making sure you’ve thought this through.”

_ “Of course I've thought this through.” _

Alex rolls her eyes. She stops, looks through the front window of an antique shop. That record player might be a good gift for her mother who still listens to the record collection she had built with Alex’s father.

“I'm just… This company isn't even a year old, Kara. You’re basically guaranteed a position at the Daily Planet.”

_ “Cat Grant started at the Planet, Alex, she knows what she’s doing. This would be the first media company founded by a woman ever. I want to be a part of that.” _

With a sigh, Alex starts down the street again. That is definitely something she understands. “Just, don’t burn any bridges at the Planet, okay?”

“ _ I think that will be easy enough as long as Clark stays there.” _

“You can’t just depend on Clark like that.”

_ “I’m not.” _

Alex can practically see Kara stomping her foot. She turns around the antique shop, onto Main Street. Flint’s is on the other side of the street, down the block. She can see Maggie and Lucy climbing off of a motorcycle parked by the curb.

_ “Anyway,” _ Kara drawls.  _ “How’s  _ your _ job going?” _

“It’s good,” Alex said, looking both ways before crossing the road. “A lot of work even if I manage to rope Max in.”

_ “Why are you working with him again?” _

“Because he pays well.” She waves when Maggie notices her, pushes against the beginning threads of attraction. “And, it’s really interesting, and challenging, and exactly the type of job I like.”

Kara laughs.  _ “That’s why he called you.” _

“I know,” Alex groans. “I hate that he knows me so well.”

_ “You’re the one who decided to date him for six years.” _

“Biggest mistake of my life.”

Lucy’s eyebrow raise at the line as Alex reaches them.

“Alright, Kara, I have to go.”

_ “Bye. Love you.” _

“Love you.” She closes her phone, slips it into her pocket. “So, breakfast?”

She follows them inside, to a corner booth. A waitress puts three mugs of coffee and menus on the table.

“Do you recommend anything?” Alex asks, opening her menu flat on the table, and glancing through it while grabbing sugar for her coffee.

“The ‘Less is More’ platter is my go to,” Maggie says.

“I don’t see it.”

“It’s in the vegan section,” Lucy said, then laughs as Alex wrinkles her nose.

“You say that like you’ve never ordered a vegan meal,” Maggie says.

“Bout the only two who order regularly from that section,” the waitress says as she walks up, holding a coffee pot but no pad to write orders.

“Hey, Agnes,” Lucy grins. “What’re the muffin flavors today?”

“Lemon and poppy seed, blueberry, and strawberry.”

“Ooh, can I get a strawberry muffin? And a fruit salad.”

“Course, darling. What’re y’all feeling?” Agnes glances at Alex and Maggie.

“The ‘Less is More’, please, Agnes,” Maggie says.

Agnes chuckles, focuses on Alex.

“Can I get the sausage and cheese omelette?” Alex askes, pointing at it in the menu.

“Course.” Agnes collectes their menus. “I’ll have that right out for y’all.”

“So,” Alex drawles. She takes a sip of coffee. It’s good, much better than the hotel stuff. “I was promised stories?”

Lucy glances at Maggie, who sighes and gestures for her to go ahead.

“There are a lot of stories from Pratt State,” Lucy begins.

Maggie rolls her eyes as Lucy launched into her spiel. As much as she is looking for justice for the victims, Lucy is still a sucker for a ghost story, for scaring others with a good one.

“There were a lot of innocents sent there,” Lucy continues. “People who simply had a mental disorder or illness. A lot of women were sent there by husbands who felt they were too opinionated. But some were truly horrible people. Murderers. Rapists. People who had successfully claimed insanity in court.” A lull to take a sip of coffee and draw out the story. “Leigh Emerson was one of those.”

Alex glances at Maggie, finding her staring intently at her coffee.

“Leigh Emerson?” she asks, looking back to Lucy.

“Mhm. He killed nineteen people. The first was a department store Santa, and the rest he killed while wearing that guys costume.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. And it doesn’t end there.” Lucy leans closer. “After a few years of Christmas celebrations being cancelled, the hospital decided to have them again. With Emerson as the Santa.”

A lump grows in Alex’s throat, refusing to go away as she swallowed some coffee.

“He attacked one of the nuns, and was being sent to solitary when he killed and escaped from the orderlies. They never found him but there have been these ‘Santa sightings’ ever since. People out alone late at night claiming they saw Santa watching them from allies. A number of peeping Tom’s dressed like Santa.”

“But is it actually him, or people using the story to scare others?” Alex asks.

Lucy shrugs, leans back. “Who knows?”

The arrival of their food keeps Alex from jumping right into her next question, gives Maggie a chance to jump in.

“What brought you to this job?”

“Money?” Alex answers, cutting her omelet. “Honestly, though. I like a challenge, and this is going to be a massive one.”

Their breakfast goes quickly. Alex gets another story from Lucy, of the women trying to escape the fire, still trapped on the upper floors.

She takes in the local perspective on the hospital. As much as the locals spread the fear of the place, there also seems to be a fondness for it. If Max wants his business to not be hated by the town, he needs to work within that, make it clear that he wants to preserve, not take over.

They split the bill two ways, then head outside.

“So, we’ll see you at the hospital?” Maggie says, unlocking the bike.

Alex nods. “That’s a nice bike, by the way,” she says. “Thunderbird, right?”

Maggie grins, takes the helmet Lucy pushes into her hands. “You know bikes?”

“I’ve got a few at home.”

“A few?” Lucy jumps in.

Alex shrugs. “Used to fix them up with my dad as a kid. Kept some of them.”

“Bring one down some time,” Maggie says. “There’s some really good routes out here I like to ride to forget the scary ass asylum I work at.”

Alex laughs, ignores how close the conversation is getting to flirting. “Well, my truck’s bout a block back, so I should get going so we don’t give Max any time alone at the hospital.”

She gives them a small wave, then sets off down the street. A few moments later, she hears the Triumph drive off.

She pulls her cell phone from her pocket, flips it open, and dials Max’s number.

He doesn’t answer.

Alex groans, tries again.

No answer.

She lets the voicemail prompt run through instead of hanging up.

“Max,” she says after the beep. “I hope you’re in the shower and not still asleep. You need to be at the hospital.”

She hangs up, then nearly drops the phone as it rings. She flips it back open, and rolls her eyes.

“Good timing, Max.”

Static.

“Max?”

Alex pulls the phone from her ear, squints at the screen. Her service seems fine, but maybe Max was in a bad area.

“Max, if you can hear me, you’ve got crap service. Call back once you’re somewhere better, or, I don’t know, just show up at the hospital.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey hey, nerdsbianhokie here with chapter three. I hope you all like it. Writing more horror stuff has been interesting because reading horror has never scared me (well once, vaguely for a few moments while reading Needful Things in high school) so horror is always something I've wanted to try, and I'm so happy to finally be doing it.
> 
> The story of Leigh Emerson is not mine, that comes from AHS: Asylum


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